


The Invasion of the...

by ToshiChan



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Sarah Jane Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Doctor Who References, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queer Themes, Recovery, Rescue, Trauma, doctor who cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToshiChan/pseuds/ToshiChan
Summary: An alternate universe re-telling of how, despite everything, Sarah-Jane found Luke and Luke found Sarah-Jane





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea would not leave me alone so here it is, Alternate Universe- No Aliens with Sarah-Jane still finding her amazing son.

Sarah-Jane’s journalist work took her to far too many a dangerous place for her to be surprised by anything anymore. Each new story that found its way to her was tackled in much the same manner as the one before it and the one before that one and so on. There wasn’t any situation that Sarah-Jane got herself into that she couldn’t immediately get out of. It was as she always said, keep a cool mind and you’ll never lose.

Still, there was always going to be the rare exception in her field of work. Now and again she would stumble across something new to work on and it would catch her completely off guard. The story she’d done on asylum seekers had been a tough one and she’d spent many a teary night wearily typing away at her computer, trying to make sense of all the horrors she’d just seen. And of course, the story she’d had to write about a bombing at a school had given her nightmares for a few weeks afterwards.

But she was always able to move on from them afterwards. She would write her stories and publish them and then move on to the next big thing to catch her attention.

This new story was something different.

Sarah-Jane worked for herself, but she also worked for the people. A great deal of the stories she had written had originated as people coming to her with a potential idea. A father came to her once with knowledge that there’d been some occurrences of richer parents forcing children from lower class homes out of a kindergarten. A small business owner helped out with an article on an upcoming fundraiser. An anonymous source tipped her off to misuse of power in the government.

This most recent story came to her in the form of three different people, totally unaware that they had all seen Sarah-Jane to complain about the same thing.

“They’re shouting and screaming at each other all hours of the day.” Amelia Pond rocked her newborn baby back and forth while she complained to Sarah-Jane about her next-door neighbours, the Wormwoods. Amelia knew of Sarah-Jane, but she was a friend of a friend of a friend. “When Rory called the police, they didn’t do anything. The Wormwoods could be bribing them. Melody isn’t getting any sleep which means we’re not. I’m going insane and it’s their fault.”

“Me and a mate got called round to do some work at their house and it was really weird.” Micky Smith, also a friend of a friend of a friend dropped by one day, having heard high praise from his ex-girlfriend about Sarah-Jane’s prowess. “Jake needed to check out the boiler, but they wouldn’t let him into the basement. It’s all locked up tight. We had to leave the job half done. What do you reckon they’re hiding down there?”

“I think they’re keeping someone locked up in there.” Bill Potts whispered conspiratorially as she had her usual weekly dinner with Sarah-Jane, who she’d met two years ago at her university where Sarah-Jane had been guest lecturing. “They keep really odd hours, you know. They get into these horrible fights, and the only people who ever go in and out are them.”

“Them?” Sarah-Jane had gotten distracted briefly.

“The Wormwoods.”

It was the third time the Wormwoods and their odd behaviour had been brought up to Sarah-Jane. Nothing sounded too suspicious about them, bar perhaps the police not getting involved despite complaints. Still, it was worth a little snoop around. The people who had come to her were friends, or friends of friends. It was the least she could do. And besides, Sarah-Jane could never resist an investigation.

She had expected the investigation into the Wormwoods to lead to two unpolite neighbours with serious trust issues and perhaps a friend on the force.

Instead, Sarah-Jane found herself face to face with a young boy.

* * *

Sarah-Jane hadn’t meant to break into the Wormwood house, honest. It was just nobody had been home and she had her trusty lockpick and what was stopping her? A little snooping never hurt anyone, as long as she didn’t get caught. She told herself it would just be on quick check to set her nerves at ease. The more she’d looked into the Wormwoods, the more she found things she didn’t like and she wanted to calm the rapidly growing anxiety within her.

Then she’d stumbled her way into the basement to avoid Mrs Wormwood who had turned up out of the blue and found a small room outfitted with a table, a chair and a single bed mattress. A boy sat on the makeshift bed, staring up at her with narrowed eyes, squinting at her as she shone her torch on him. He was unnaturally skinny, with untamed hair and a baggy white oversized t-shirt for clothes.

“Hello.” Sarah-Jane really wasn’t one for shock, and yet…

“Hello.” The boy replied. His voice was quiet but steady.

“Who are you?” Sarah-Jane asked next, a journalist at heart. As her mind scrabbled to conjure up possible reasons for this boy’s existence, her mouth set itself on auto-pilot to start asking the usual questions.

“Who are you?”

Fair.

“My name is Sarah-Jane.”

“My name is Sarah-Jane.” The boy parroted.

Oh…

“What are you doing here?” Sarah-Jane tried a final time. Any sort of excuses she might have had to explain why the Wormwoods kept this boy (their son?) in the basement were quickly slipping away. Sarah-Jane had been working for a long time and she knew exactly what was going on.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looks like I’m rescuing you.” Sarah-Jane answered the repeated question, not a trace of hesitation or worry to be found in her voice.

“Rescuing?” The boy got stuck on one word.

“I’m going to save you.” Sarah-Jane told him. She was acutely aware that Mrs Wormwood was somewhere above them, unaware of Sarah-Jane’s presence but certainly aware of the boy’s.

“Save me.” The boy tilted his head and looked at her with wide eyes, and suddenly Sarah-Jane was in love.

Funny how the world worked.

* * *

The story hit the papers a week after Sarah-Jane saved the unnamed boy from the Wormwoods’ basement.

 **Kept for Cruelty** the headline sang. Not one of Sarah-Jane’s best but in her opinion, the entire article was a mess. She’d been far too occupied on helping her new temporary charge, trying to track down any potential family that might want him, since his own parents had only ever looked at him with hate and malice and worse.

A photo of the boy imbedded in the article had its own small caption. _The unnamed Wormwood boy sees the sun for the first time._

It sounded dramatic, but it was also the truth. When Sarah-Jane had led the boy from the basement after a confrontation with the Wormwoods that had led to them both being escorted out in handcuffs by un-bribed police, he had recoiled instantly back into the darkness of the house.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah-Jane had asked.

“It hurts.” The boy cried, and Sarah-Jane had to lend him her sunglasses before he would step out again. “What is it?”

How did you begin to explain the sun to a boy who had never seen it?

“It’s the sun.” Sarah-Jane could only name it. “You can read about it later.”

“Read?” The boy stared at her in wonder.

It was then that Sarah-Jane realised that if his life had been restricted to a small basement with only three pieces of furniture, then he probably didn’t know how to read.

_With uncertainty in the future, the question remains, will this child be able to live the normal life he should have earned so long ago?_

The ending was so cheesy that Sarah-Jane could almost feel it clogging her arteries, but she found she could easily forget about it when she brought Luke to her house and introduced it as a home.

* * *

When Sarah-Jane had set out to investigate three separate complaints about the behaviour of the Wormwoods, she hadn’t expected to find a boy in the basement, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to wiggle his way into her heart and home.

When Luke first saw the bedroom she’d prepared for him, he turned to her with wide eyes that never seemed to stop staring.

“Is it mine?” He asked nervously.

“All yours.” Sarah-Jane assured him. “Do you…do you like it?”

How did you build a room for a boy who’d never had one?

She’d done her best, filling it with more stuff than was probably necessary. There were two bookshelves crammed full with books to help him read and learn and grow. The bed was big, bigger than the pathetic excuse for one he’d had in the basement. There was a desk to do work at, a laptop to research on and a wardrobe with clothes that Bill had helped her shop for. There was a window seat looking over the backyard and curtains to cover them in case he wanted to hide for a bit. The floor was a soft carpet that was as far away from the cold concrete of the basement as possible.

“It’s amazing.” Luke told her, his eyes never leaving the books. “Thank you.”

Sarah-Jane would never figure out how Luke had learned to be so polite.

Or rather, she did (polite boys don’t get hit, polite boys get to eat food, polite boys don’t get hit, don’t get hurt don’t get hurt don’t hurt me) and she hated it.

“It’s no problem at all.” Sarah-Jane told an overwhelmed Luke. “It was my pleasure.”

Luke turned his eyes away from the books to gaze at her with clear adoration in his eyes.

* * *

The Wormwoods had never bothered to name the son they’d had, choosing to view him as a possession instead of an individual human being. When a well-meaning nurse had asked the boy his name at the hospital, he quietly told her he didn’t have one and watched nervously as tears sprung to her eyes and she hastened to find a reason to leave so she could hide and cry.

“Names are important?” The boy asked Sarah-Jane when she came to visit.

“Yes.” Sarah-Jane answered simply. “They let people know who you are, and they let you do the same.”

“But I don’t have one.” The boy’s face fell.

“Well…” Sarah-Jane was rarely stumped for an answer and this certainly wasn’t going to be one of those rare times. “I guess you’ll just have to choose one.”

They thought of names together, with Sarah-Jane contributing more than the boy who was smart and spoke well but had been denied so much knowledge because he didn’t know a whole world existed outside his room.

She gave him options like Billy, Sam, Harry, Alistair, Teddy. He declined each one politely and seemed embarrassed by his lack of ideas.

When Sarah-Jane suggested Luke, the boy finally smiled.

“Luke. I like Luke.” Luke said.

“Luke it is.” Sarah-Jane beamed. “I’ll sort out the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“When I get you home, I’m going to teach you the world.” Sarah-Jane told Luke firmly. He didn’t seem to understand what she meant, but he smiled anyway and asked if she’d ever tried sugary cereal because the doctors at the hospital had just let him and he thought it was great.

“You’ll have to introduce me to it.” Sarah-Jane laughed, and he laughed too.

It was a little one.

It was wonderful.

* * *

Luke picked up the alphabet quicker than Sarah-Jane was expecting and powered through all the simple books she’d bought him, with their large text and colourful pictures. Soon she had to go out and swap them for bigger and better ones with harder words. The dictionary became his best friend as he sat down on the window seat every afternoon and poured through all the knowledge Sarah-Jane could possibly give him. It became clear very quickly that Luke was incredibly gifted and that if he’d only had the chance to grow, he could’ve been doing amazing things by now.

Sarah-Jane learnt to hide her anger at the unfairness of it all and whenever she went to work, she always made sure to come home with something new for Luke to read.

* * *

Bill Potts was Luke’s babysitter. When Sarah-Jane had to dash off in pursuit of the latest scoop, Bill would come round and spend the day teaching Luke different things. Books were good for learning how deep the ocean was, or how space travel worked, or how many Prime Ministers Britain had had, but they didn’t exactly teach you how to be street smart.

Bill taught Luke how to fight back. She showed him self-defence moves and never got mad when he struggled with them. She taught him about jokes and how to tell them. Bill showed Luke how to make beans on toast in case he got hungry and laughed with him through the first failed test. She searched up funny cat videos for them to watch and laughed when Luke shyly asked if they could watch some dog ones next because he thought that maybe he liked dogs better than cats, if that was okay.

Most importantly, Bill taught Luke about love.

She told him that love was one of the most important things in the world, and that people loved in many different, complicated ways. She explained that some love was bad for you.

“Like my parents…” Luke offered and Bill nodded tightly.

Then, she told him all about the best love, the good love, the amazing love that made you feel safe no matter what. She helped him remember all the words for it, because Luke loved words.

Platonic. Romantic. Familial. Paternal.

“What you and Sarah-Jane have is paternal.” Bill told Luke when he asked. “What you have is good.”

Luke thought about that and knew she was right.

* * *

Luke had nightmares. Not loud, screaming ones that some people had. Never once had he woken Sarah-Jane with heartbreaking cries. Instead, Luke’s nightmares left him paralysed and afraid. He could barely breathe. It was as if the world had dropped a weight on his chest and if he struggled, all it would do was press down harder. Tears would leak from his eyes and he would fight so hard to keep them back, because good boys didn’t cry, polite boys didn’t cry and polite boys didn’t get hurt, didn’t get hit, didn’t get hurt don’t hurt me don’t hurt me don’t hurt don’t hurt me please don’t I don’t want to be hurt please…

Sarah-Jane might not have been woken up by screams but she did have a knack for knowing when Luke had woken frozen in the night. She would go downstairs and heat up milk in a little pot on the stove. She’d add a touch of vanilla, because Luke liked it, and then bring it upstairs. When she’d gotten him sitting up and sipping at his drink, they would talk.

“I never knew it was wrong.” Luke said one night, already speaking more elegantly than he ever had before now that he had access to every word and every way to string them together. “I thought it was normal, what they did to me.”

“And that’s their fault.” Sarah-Jane told him, fierce love embedded in every word she said.

“I know.” Luke set his milk down because his hands were shaking. “I didn’t have the words for what was going on. I only knew bad words because that was all they ever said.”

“You have them now.”

“I know.” Luke said again. “I just…I wanted them earlier. Is that bad?”

“No.” Sarah-Jane had him in a hug before he knew what was happening. Luke might’ve had nightmares, might’ve been afraid to leave the house and might’ve been scared to talk to anyone but he was never afraid of Sarah-Jane. He was never afraid when she came at him with arms open wide, offering love and warmth and protection.

The Wormwoods had came had him with closed fists that hit hard and hit fast.

Sarah-Jane came to him slowly with arms open wide, every chance for him to run there and ready.

He never took them.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Luke asked shyly.

“I will never say no.” Sarah-Jane promised.

And she wouldn’t.

* * *

When Rani Chandra, future journalist and expert snooper found out that the house they’d just moved across from belonged to the famous Sarah-Jane and her famous adopted son Luke, she made it her personal mission to worm her way inside and get information for a potential story. She recruited Clyde Langer who she’d met at her new school and decided was quite funny, even if she was never going to let him know that.

“What’s the master plan?” Clyde asked when he came round after school. They were watching 13 Bannerman Road through the kitchen window.

“I’m going to be neighbourly.” Rani slipped a recording device into her skirt pocket and then dropped another one into the opposite pocket for good luck. “I’ll bring round a plate of biscuits and hopefully start up a conversation over tea.”

“And what’s my job in all this?”

“Be quiet and act charming.” Rani said sweetly.

“So no job at all.” Clyde summed up glumly. “Why even invite me?”

Rani wasn’t going to tell him it was because she wanted a friend and he’d been the first person to make her laugh after moving. “Because you’re charming.” She teased and rummaged through the kitchen cupboards to find the biscuits she’d made yesterday.

Sarah-Jane took one look at the two smiling kids in her front yard and slammed the door in their faces.

Rani wasn’t perturbed by this and would spend the better half of two months trying to find a way into 13 Bannerman Road.

Clyde watched this all happen and drew funny comics in the back of his schoolbooks and sometimes chatted online with someone who called themselves L00k and was very interested in Clyde’s knowledge on Star Wars and wanted to learn about it.

_U have much to learn my young padawan_

_I got that reference!_

It was a work in progress.

* * *

Luke was afraid to leave the house, afraid to expose himself to anybody who might look at him and see nothing more than the boy who spent eleven years in a basement, so he instead tried making friends online. Bill came round one day and introduced him to all the different types of social media. He came up with a screen name that wasn’t very creative at all and set about meeting people. First to take up his offer of friendship was a girl named Maria who was English but lived in America because of a new job her dad had got. She was funny and supportive and never made Luke feel stupid for not knowing something. Luke liked her dad as well who sometimes dropped in during their Skype calls. He was nothing like Luke’s father, thought Luke would never tell him that.

Then Luke met a boy named CLYDE who insisted on using caps lock every time for his screen name on a Star Wars (Luke had decided he liked sci-fi movies the most and was interested in finding out about them) forum. They never did Skype calls like Maria, but Clyde was always happy to teach Luke about Star Wars and other movies he thought Luke might like. Clyde said he lived in London like Luke did but he never pressured Luke about meeting up which was nice.

Sarah-Jane did worry about Luke’s online presence, but she never had the heart to keep him away from things. Instead, she gave him lectures about being safe online and did discreet background checks on any friends he mentioned.

It did blow her mind to find out CLYDE who made Luke laugh and laugh like he never had before, was actually charming Clyde who kept appearing with Rani Chandra every time she tried to wiggle her way inside the house. So…

* * *

So when Sarah-Jane relented one day and let Rani in, it was not because of her constant badgering but rather because Sarah-Jane had seen the way Luke would light up when he spoke about CLYDE and she wanted a way for him to meet the real thing. She and Luke discussed having people over who weren’t Bill in great lengths, but he eventually decided that he wanted to give it a try.

“I can’t hide away.” He said and Sarah-Jane heard her own determination in his voice and had to blink back proud tears.

“If you never wanted to leave the house, I would understand.” She said and smiled when he shook his head.

“I’m working my way up to that. Having people over is the first step, I think.”

“Good boy.” Sarah-Jane busied away to send Rani a letter because she was a little too proud to invite the girl over face to face after all the times she’d told them to go away.

Rani got the letter on a Saturday and was at the door the next day, Clyde on her heels like he always was.

“Let me make one thing clear.” Sarah-Jane said when she answered the door. “I’m not letting you in here so you can get your next big scoop and expose my son’s secrets to the world. I’m letting you in here because Luke would like some friends and you both seem nice, even if you do like trespassing occasionally.”

Rani took a moment to accept this, but eventually turned off her recorders and followed Sarah-Jane to the kitchen where she’d made cake and put on the kettle for tea.

“Did you know that roughly seventy three percent of British people don’t know their neighbours’ names.” Luke said instead of introducing himself, which was just something he did. It was only when Sarah-Jane gave him an encouraging nod that he set down his book and offered Clyde and Rani his hand to shake. “I’m Luke.”

“Funny.” Clyde muttered.

“What?” Rani hissed.

“He just reminds me of someone I know.”

It was a stilted, awkward afternoon, made slightly manageable by Clyde working hard to try and charm Sarah-Jane and Luke interspersing sips of tea with new facts he’d found out earlier that day.

When Rani and Clyde left, Luke and Sarah-Jane stood at the sink doing the dishes.

“Did you like them?” Sarah-Jane asked, dunking a mug into the water and scrubbing at the slight tea stain around the rim.

“I think so.” Luke said thoughtfully. “Clyde’s funny.”

Sarah-Jane smiled a secret smile.

* * *

“Can we get a dog?” Luke wanted to know.

“Why on earth would you want a dog?” Sarah-Jane had a deadline approaching fast and most of her attention was focused on writing her latest article on the sudden decline of bees. She might’ve been a bit brisk with her reply, but it took her no time at all to notice Luke’s lack of reply. When she looked at him, he stared anxiously back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound short.”

“Dogs are good companions.” Luke started up again. “They keep you company. They play with you and love you. And I’ve read about how some are good for when…when you don’t feel so good.”

“You want a service dog?”

“Not a service dog specifically.” Luke said patiently. He’d gotten used to Sarah-Jane’s questions by now. After all, it was her job to ask them. “Just a dog who’ll sleep with me at night and run around with me in the garden.”

Sarah-Jane grumbled internally at how soft she’d gotten, but it wasn’t like she could say no to Luke. She loved him far too much for that.

So they got a little Jack Russel Terrier Luke called K9 because he could never resist a good pun after Clyde had taught him what they were over a fun game of Scrabble one day.

Luke had won. He always won.

K9 was small and scruffy and chased his own tail and tripped over his own feet but he also growled at shadows and slept curled up next to Luke, protecting him from nightmares by simply being there.

Sarah-Jane would never admit it, but she loved K9 too, the daft dog. If Luke was in the bathroom or over at Rani’s house (which was a thing now, and damnit if Sarah-Jane wasn’t so proud) where K9 wasn’t allowed, then the dog would follow her around and stare adoringly at her.

“How can someone so small have such a big heart?” She asked K9 jokingly one night, waiting patiently as if somehow, he might answer.

* * *

The first time Luke called Sarah-Jane mum, they both cried.

* * *

Luke’s first sleepover at Clyde’s was a big deal. After figuring out that CLYDE and Clyde were the same person, the two boys had become as thick as thieves. Sarah-Jane would walk past Luke’s room late at night and hear him giggling over Clyde’s latest comic or passionately debating the newer seasons of Star Trek. Some nights she told him to sign off and go to bed.

Other nights, she let him be.

When Luke came to her one day, silent and trembling with those same wide eyes that had flinched from the sun three years ago, Sarah-Jane put aside her work at once and opened her arms for him. He was on her lap in seconds and neither of them mentioned how he was certainly way too big for this now.

“Clyde’s invited me to a sleepover.” He said quietly.

“Well, that sounds like fun.” Sarah-Jane took it in stride like she took most things.

“Yeah?” Luke smiled hopefully at her. It was obvious he wanted to go but was worried about what Sarah-Jane would think. She hated to admit it, but she was a little bit overprotective at times.

“When are you planning to have it?” She asked and let him draw her into the elaborate plan he had laid out while Clyde listened as intently as K9 listened to Luke’s breathing at night and as intently as Rani hung onto Sarah-Jane’s talks on journalism.

Sarah-Jane was up half the night Luke was gone. It was her first night without him and suddenly the three-storey house felt too small, too empty, too lonely. Clyde’s mum had been more than happy to have K9 over as well so Sarah-Jane didn’t even have the daft dog for company.

It was worth it though, when Clyde’s mum sent Sarah-Jane a photo of their sons trying to make pancakes in the morning. Luke had batter dripping in his hair and a wide smile on his face that rivalled Clyde’s own as he drew bizarre patterns with the mixture that hadn’t ended up on Luke.

Accompanying the text was an invitation to morning tea so the two mums could get to know each other.

Sarah-Jane actually felt nervous as she gathered her bag and touched up her lipstick. She felt better once she realised Luke had probably felt the same way and yet was still laughing and smiling as if nothing would ever go wrong again.

* * *

One thing about the Luke in this world, the world without Aliens and the Bane and everything else, was that he never once asked Sarah-Jane if something was good or bad.

When he was a kid, he asked it all the time.

But his father would always sneer bad back at him, and his mother would hit him when she grew tired of the questions, so he eventually learned to stop.

* * *

Things could always go wrong, and this time, they did.

Mr and Mrs Wormwood, once locked up tight for imprisoning their child in a basement, now walking free again because of a mistake in the trial and because of some apparently good behaviour once behind bars. For once, Sarah-Jane was behind the news and found out at the same time as her son did.

Luke locked himself in his room with nobody to keep him company, not even K9 who whimpered and scratched at the door and wailed when he could feel Luke having nightmares. Clyde sent him messages and came round to knock and knock but to no avail. Sarah-Jane sat on the other side of the door and tried to imagine Luke doing the same. She sat there and held back tears because she knew this was Luke’s time to cry and she waited.

Bill came round with movie soundtracks to play and promises of video games but Luke didn’t budge. Maria called him again and again on Skype but not once did he press the accept call button. Sarah-Jane cuddled K9 and she made tea for Clyde and Bill and she waited.

In the end, it was Rani who got through to him.

She got dressed in her work experience clothes, grabbed her trusty trio of a pen, a recorder and a notebook and marched her way into Sarah-Jane’s house and knocked on Luke’s door.

“Tell me everything.” She demanded and Luke was so surprised that he actually opened the door.

“What?”

“Tell me everything.” Rani repeated like it was obvious. “It’s not like we’re going to let those horrible people walk free. Tell me what you remember and we can build another case.”

So it was Rani the reporter who got Luke out of his bad place by acting professional and focusing on details rather than feelings and promising him her best work.

Then, when it was over and Luke had said everything he needed to say, Rani put down her pad and Luke got Rani the friend who held him tight and let him cry but never cried with him because she knew this was his time and that hers would come later.

Luke never read the article. He didn’t need to. He trusted Rani had done her best work.

She had.

* * *

Five years after Sarah-Jane had broken into a house because of three different complaints and had found a boy in the basement with wide eyes and untamed hair and skinny limbs, Sarah-Jane took her beautiful son out to dinner. Accompanying them was a whole host of friends. Rani and her parents, dressed up and excited for a night out with the famous journalist and her famous son. Clyde and his mum, Clyde already hanging back to rag on Luke’s tie while his mum talked university prices with Sarah-Jane. Bill, babysitter extraordinaire with her fiancé on her arm and a smile on her face. Even Maria and her dad had flown down from America to spend a week with Luke. Sarah-Jane had heard them the two friends chatting into all hours of the night but not once had she told them to stop.

Tonight wasn’t about recognising that five years ago, Luke had been in a shitty situation but now he wasn’t. Sure, it was the five-year anniversary, but that wasn’t really on anyone’s mind. Instead, they were out to dinner simply because they had the freedom to do such a thing. They had the freedom to make plans and go out and find a restaurant that would take dogs so that K9 could come along too.

They had a large table outside, warmed by two space heaters that surrounded them in a cosy bubble of heat. Over plates of food, they talked. Rani’s parents joined in the conversation about university with Mrs Langer while Alan Jackson watched on and tried to offer his own input based on American experiences. Rani and Clyde discussed Clyde’s latest batch of commissioned work and what had been his favourite piece to draw. Maria smiled hopefully at Bill and her fiancé and asked them question after question, warm on the inside and out at the thought of not being alone in her interests anymore.

And across the table, Sarah-Jane Smith met Luke Smith’s eyes, and they both smiled.

“Feeling okay?” Sarah-Jane mouthed at her totally unexpected yet incredibly amazing son.

“Feeling great.” Luke mouthed back.

And he was.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on, before and after and always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I wrote a sequel
> 
> It's just more drabbles from Luke's time with Sarah-Jane, some taking place during part 1, others after it

“Do you want to see a therapist?” Sarah-Jane asked Luke one night after a particularly bad nightmare that even K9 hadn’t been able to help with. By the time Sarah-Jane had arrived with milk, Luke had been curled up in a ball, crying.

The milk was long cold now, untouched, and Luke was still crying. He could feel the phantom fingers on him, his old parents hitting him simply because they were angry, and he was there and that was all he was good for. Being hit. Sarah-Jane had her arms around him, and he didn’t mind too much. He’d hoped her comfort would drive the bad thoughts away, but he just couldn’t stop shaking and gasping for air.

“A therapist?” He managed.

“Yes. Have you read about them yet?”

“A little.” Luke was struggling to think straight. His breath hitched with every sob.

“A professional could really help you.” Sarah-Jane offered.

“Because there’s something wrong with me?” Luke choked out.

“Oh, no Luke. Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with you. But there’s something wrong with what happened to you. Understand?”

“Maybe…”

“Your parents…” Sarah-Jane hesitated, something she rarely did. She had a way with words and she always powered through any conversation with barely a falter. “Your old parents. They did terrible things to you, Luke. Things you didn’t deserve. Things that are still affecting you. So, you might be the most amazing child, but bad things did happen to you and there’s no shame in finding a way to deal with them. Seeking help is a good idea.”

Luke rubbed at his eyes in frustration. “I thought I was past this. I thought I was better.”

“There’s no shame in feeling like this.” Sarah-Jane held Luke tighter. “Recovery is never going to be a straight line.”

If Luke had been feeling like himself, he would have made a comment about that being impossible anyway, because recovery wasn’t a tangible thing you could set down like tracks for a train or painted lines to divide contestants in a race. But Luke wasn’t feeling like himself so he just focused on his breathing and let his mum hold him.

And in between one breath and the next, he stopped crying.

* * *

He asked it one day, entirely by accident.

Rani was showing him how to make a curry at her house while Clyde lounged in a chair and sketched them.

“How much chilli can you handle?” Rani asked conversationally, deft hands slicing away at some onions.

“I don’t know.” Luke replied honestly. He’d been tasked with cutting up some chicken but he didn’t think he was doing a very good job.

“Only a little bit?” She pressed.

“Maybe.” Luke set the knife he was using down. “Is that good or bad?”

_Is that good or bad?_

_Is that good…or bad?_

_Is that good or bad_

_“Is that good or bad?”_

_SLAP_

_“Stop asking that!”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“No you’re not, or you wouldn’t keep asking.”_

_“Please, I didn’t mean to.”_

_“Pathetic.”_

_“Don’t…don’t hurt me.”_

_“You should have thought about the consequences before you did something I didn’t like.”_

_“No!”_

He came back to himself on the floor, back pressed against the kitchen cupboards. A handle was pressing into his skin. It hurt.

“Luke?” Rani was crouched down in front of him.

He flinched back.

“Sorry.” She moved away. Clyde was standing behind her, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Luke managed to croak out. “I should go.”

He moved to stand up but his legs were shaking and his back was aching and he ended up sinking back down to the ground.

“What happened?” Rani asked in her friend voice, though the question had journalist written all over it.

Or maybe she was just worried because they were friends.

Luke wasn’t really good at working out what people were thinking. In the end, he knew nothing about them.

“Nothing. I got…dizzy.” It was an excuse, and a bad one at that. Clyde arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Rani opened her mouth, paused, and then shut it.

“Want us to call your mum?” Clyde’s voice was light.

“It’s just across the road.” The words were bitter but his tone was weak, quiet, defeated.

“Did we do something?” Rani kept going.

“No, no you didn’t. It was me.”

_It’s always me._

He left before they could ask anything else. As he crossed the road, he could feel their eyes on him and he knew that they’d start talking about what had happened the moment he was home.

When Clyde messaged him later that night, it was to talk about the latest Marvel movie, and if Luke had any opinions on horror movies, because he thought it might be fun to watch a few of them at some point.

The ‘are you okay’ went unwritten but not unsaid. Luke could feel it there in the words that dripped with love and affection.

When Clyde asked him what he thought about things, Luke felt loved, because all those years ago, no one had bothered to ask.

Good.

Good, good, good, good, good.

* * *

Maria Jackson’s friendship with Luke Smith was odd, sure. She’d come across a message one night, scrolling mindlessly through her various social media feeds. It had been posted by someone going by the online name L00K and they were ‘interested in improving my social skills after eleven years of not getting to use them by making some online friends’. It screamed danger, but Maria had been intrigued enough to message back, thinking that at least it’d be a fun story to tell if nothing else came out of it.

Instead, Maria found herself whisked into the world of a young boy, once held captive, now just setting out to discover the world. He spoke tentatively, nervously, and Maria was endeared.

_Where do you live?_

_London. With my new mum in a nice house._

_Cool!!!!!!! I used to live in London. What do you think of it?????_

_I don’t go outside_

_Why not, if u don’t mind me asking_

_Scared_

Their text conversations soon turned to Skype calls where Maria was able to meet her new friend face to face. He looked younger than her, even though he was apparently her age, with wide dark eyes. He was appallingly skinny for obvious reasons, but Maria had long since let go of her anger over everything that had happened to Luke, letting it turn to love and a desire to protect.

“Do you miss London?” Luke asked shyly once. He never seemed to know what to do when they were Skyping. Maria watched as he picked up things only to put them back down again. His eyes flittered around nervously and he would drum his fingers against mugs and pencil pots and the desk.

“Yeah, loads.” Maria sighed dramatically. “I miss the food the most. Though with dad cooking, it’s not too bad. America’s way too hot. Wish it’d rain once in a while.”

“It’s raining here right now.” Luke slid aside to give her a grainy view of his bedroom window, rain slamming against the panes.

“I miss my mum as well. She wasn’t always around a lot, but she was my mum and I loved her.” Maria’s eyes darted over to an old family photo on her bedside table. They’d been happy back then, her and her parents.

“I wouldn’t know what to do if I moved away from mum.” Luke stared solemnly into his mug of tea.

“Do you…never mind.” Maria trailed off.

“What is it?” Luke titled his head curiously. Maria had met Sarah-Jane a few times through Skype, and even though he’d probably deny it, Luke was picking up her tendency to ask questions and never let things go.

“Do you miss them sometimes? Your old mum and dad?”

Luke frowned. He bit his lip and his eyes drifted. Sometimes he got like this. He suddenly ended up miles away, lost in his own thoughts. All Maria could do was wait patiently for him to come back.

“No.” Luke said finally, firmly.

“Okay.” Maria nodded. “Good.”

“Good?” Luke seemed happy to hear this.

“Yeah. They’re the worst. No need to miss them.” Maria said confidently. “Now, this Bill lady you keep telling me about. Did you say she had a girlfriend?”

* * *

“Mum, we’re out of milk.” Luke stared glumly at the contents of the fridge. Sarah-Jane wasn’t the best at remembering to do the shopping and this was a common occurrence in the house. They ate take away a lot, especially when Sarah-Jane was finishing up a story and so it was rare for there to be a fully stocked fridge or a crowded pantry.

“What was that, Luke?!” Sarah-Jane called from the attic where she wrote her stories, comfortably surrounded by the various bits and pieces she’d collected over the years.

“We’re out of milk!”

“Well just nip down to the shops and get some yourself. I need to have this story in by tonight!”

When Sarah-Jane was rushing to meet a deadline, she often forgot about a lot of things. Eating, drinking, sleeping, or buying milk. Sometimes she forgot that her son wasn’t exactly normal, which could be nice occasionally, but more often than not was a little frustrating.

When normal kids were told to go outside and buy milk, it was easy for them to do that. When kids like Luke were asked, it was anything but.

Luke didn’t go outside.

At first he couldn’t, because he was weak and sick. He had a long list of reasons why he couldn’t go out and about. The sun hurt his eyes and his skin and he had to adjust to it. There were too many germs and he had to get all these needles so he would be protected. The story had just hit the paper and too many people would recognise him.

Then, when those reasons became null and void, Luke didn’t go outside because he didn’t want to.

He was too scared to.

It wasn’t logical, which was funny, sort of. Luke liked things to be logical. He organised his books in alphabetical order, was nearly always too literal, spent many hours of the night disproving ghost stories when he felt like it and generally did a lot more other things that his friend CLYDE online would frequently despair over. In all aspects of his life, Luke thrived on order and logic.

Refusing to go outside was anything but.

The empty fridge suddenly became too much for Luke and he slammed it shut.

Most of the time, he was content to take things at his own pace. Sarah-Jane was always reassuring him that there was no rush and that she was happy enough for him to do whatever he was comfortable with and nothing else further. Luke knew (logically) that nobody in his life was judging him on how he was currently living. Nobody except himself.

What good was this new chance of life Sarah-Jane had given him if all he did was hide away inside? When he was locked in the basement of his mother and father’s house, all he’d wanted to do was leave it. Now, he couldn’t even get past the front door.

Pathetic.

Sometimes, Luke would watch things happening outside his window, comfortable enough with the outside world to watch it, but not live in it. He’d watch the girl from across the road (Rani, apparently) leave her house each morning in her school uniform, chatting away on her phone or meeting up with her friend so they could walk together. They did it so easily, one foot after another and then another and another. It came so naturally to them. They didn’t live with the same fears Luke did. Fears about being grabbed, being judged, being recognised.

Luke gritted his teeth and looked at the door. He could do this. It was simple. He wanted milk? All he had to do was go out and get milk. He knew there was a shop close by, because when mum dashed off to do the shopping, she nearly always walked, and she was always home quickly. A speedy google search revealed the location of the shop to Luke and now there was nothing stopping him.

Sarah-Jane kept a dish of loose change on top of the TV cabinet for emergencies. Luke supposed that milk didn’t count as the sort of emergency his mum had in mind, but it wasn’t like he had his own money. What would he spend it on? Despite Sarah-Jane filling the house with things he liked, Luke tended to live quite minimally after years of literally owning nothing.

It took a long time before Luke actually mustered the courage to open the front door. Having the freedom to do basically everything he wanted didn’t mean he always remembered that. Eleven years of conditioning was hard to shake off. Luke’s impressive memory let him recall his entire life and yet it refused to let him remember that he was safe, that he was free, that his mother and father couldn’t hurt him anymore.

It was a cloudy day outside, with the sun shining weakly through the murky greys as they drifted across the sky. Despite the lack of proper warmth, it wasn’t particularly cold. Still, Luke wrapped his jacket tighter around him. The money jingled comfortingly in his pocket, a little bit of his mum to keep him safe. It was a school day luckily, so Rani and her friend wouldn’t be around to see him leave and pounce on him with questions. Luke was free to travel unnoticed (hopefully) to the shop and back.

Luke had barely made any progress down the street before he saw a girl about his age approaching him. She wasn’t wearing a school uniform, and she probably hadn’t noticed Luke yet because all her attention was focused on her mobile phone. Luke didn’t recognise the girl but the way she walked easily despite being distracted was sort of impressive. With a bit of luck, the two would pass each other without any fanfare.

Luke had never claimed to be lucky.

When he and the girl were roughly two metres apart, she looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened and every muscle in Luke’s body tensed.

“You’re well fit.” She cocked her head and snickered.

“Pardon?” Whatever Luke had been expecting her to say, it hadn’t been that.

“You’re cute.” She clarified, though Luke was certainly struggling to find any clarity in this situation. “I’m Kelsie. Who are you?”

“Luke.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god you’re that abused boy who moved in with the mad woman.”

Luke rocked back and forth on his feet. His words had dried up all of a sudden. The only thought he could currently process was ‘this was a bad idea this was a bad idea this was a bad idea.’

“I like you.” Kelsie declared. “You’re mine.”

The world spun abruptly, or maybe it was just Luke. He’d stopped processing any thoughts now. Two singular words rattled through his mind.

_You’re mine You’re mine You’re mine_

Just like before, just like always. He was nothing but a possession for others. He wasn’t free. He would never be free.

_You’re mine You’re mine You’re mine_

This was why going outside was a bad idea. This was why he should never leave the house. He wasn’t safe out here. This was always going to happen. He would never escape this, never escape them.

_You’re mine You’re mine You’re mine_

Kelsie was talking, her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying, only what she’d said.

**You’re mine**

No!

Luke spun on his heels and ran. He’d never run faster in his life. The house was close, so close, and yet the street loomed before him like an endless race that he’d be running forever. He didn’t know if Kelsie was following him. He didn’t dare look back. The only thing grounding him right now was the money in his pocket. A little bit of reassurance that he was his own person.

_You’re mine…_

No.

He sped up the driveway, rocketed through the front door and sunk to the floor. His breath was coming hard and fast and he didn’t know if it would ever settle. The door was shut, barricading him in, keeping him safe, but he could sense Kelsie out there. Surely by now she’d be back on her phone, telling all her friends that she’d met the mad boy of Bannerman road.

Sarah-Jane found him later that night, wedged between the wall and an armchair, hiding away from the world. His eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks were tear stained. She waited patiently for him to speak. When he found his words, they were quiet and vague.

“I went to get milk.”

“Oh darling.” Sarah-Jane held out her arms and Luke tripped over himself in his haste to reach her. “You’re safe now.”

_You’re mine_

He wasn’t. He wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t.

* * *

Sarah-Jane walked K9. He was a small dog and the house was quite big, but he still needed to get out and about. Luke wanted to do it, he really did, but he’d never been able to get past the front door. Instead, he and K9 chased each other around the house and the garden and that was enough.

* * *

“What’s school like?” Luke asked one afternoon. Clyde and Rani had come over after their lessons and while Rani had quickly dashed off to find Sarah-Jane in the attic for help on one of her assignments, Clyde had scoffed at the thought of more work and had made a beeline for the kitchen where Luke had been all day, attempting (and semi-succeeding) to make biscuits.

“Boring.” Clyde said through a mouthful of food. “Annoying.”

“Why?”

Clyde shrugged. “Just is.”

“Is it hard?” Luke pressed.

“Suppose so.” Clyde reached for another biscuit, but Luke whisked them out of his reach.

“No more until you tell me about school.”

Clyde frowned but didn’t protest. Secretly, they all liked it when Luke stood up for himself.

“Why do you want to know? Thinking about going?”

Luke nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

Any teasing hint to Clyde’s tone, any annoyance at being asked questions about school was suddenly gone. All of Clyde’s attention was on Luke, his best friend.

“Really? That’s so cool. We’d be in the same classes so you could help me with all my work.”

Luke laughed. “I already help you with your work.”

“Yeah, well…” Clyde spluttered. “This time you’ll have context.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?” Luke asked shyly, focusing more on the rubix cube which he’d fished out of the cutlery draw (um what) and less on Clyde.

“Not at all.” Clyde said firmly. “As long as you’re ready, what’s the harm.”

“Lots of things.” Luke mumbled. He was still talking, but it wasn’t really to Clyde. He was truly off in his own little world. “My therapist says the outside world scares me so much because there’s lots of potential triggers in it. And what if people at school recognise me? They won’t leave me alone. If I enrol in school but have to keep missing days because I can’t bring myself to leave the house, is that something that’s okay?”

“What about home-school?” Clyde suggested.

“Mum doesn’t have enough time for that. And I’ve taught myself plenty up until this point.” Luke looked up again and met Clyde’s eyes, which was rare. “I just want to be normal.”

For a moment, Clyde was stumped. What exactly should he say to that? He couldn’t reassure Luke that he was normal, because both of them knew that wasn’t true. And Luke probably didn’t want some soppy line about how being normal was actually stupid and it was better to be weird. It was a simple fact that Luke was not normal. It wasn’t his fault, but it was true. People would always treat him differently.

Clyde just didn’t want to be one of those people.

“What if you Skyped into lessons?” Clyde suggested when he realised the silence had been going on too long.

Luke rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and that was what mattered.

“Maybe I can find a tutor.” He conceded.

“One step at a time.” Clyde reached for the biscuits again and this time, Luke let him.

* * *

Luke’s therapist was an elderly lady who reminded him of his mum. She was willing to come to the house for sessions which was the initial reason they’d sought her out, but after a few months of having sessions together, it had become clear that she was the perfect person to help Luke.

She had a wry grin that slowly spread across her face when something amused her, but it could just as easily be replaced with a kind and sympathetic smile when Luke was revealing something troubling. She adored K9 and always brought him a little treat when she came around. She was non-judgemental, was happy enough to follow whatever train of thought Luke had embarked on and never pressured him to accelerate his recovery.

Luke wondered sometimes if she was actually helping, because it didn’t feel like anything was really getting better. Still, he looked forward to her visits, so that had to be something. She wasn’t especially literal either, which was helpful for Luke. She took the things that Luke found hard and twisted them around until they were easier.

“Is it normal, me not wanting to go outside?” Luke asked the very first time she came over to chat with him.

“I know many people who would rather cut off their own arm than go outside.” She answered.

“I don’t think I’d go that far.” Luke frowned.

“There you go, then.”

“But you can’t compare those kinds of things.”

“No.” A pleased smile spread across her face. “No, you can’t.”

* * *

The first friend Luke had ever made apart from Sarah-Jane (if she even counted at all, considering she was his mum and that felt different to being a friend) was Bill Potts.

Bill was an old student of Sarah-Jane’s who had come over for dinner once after a particularly hard class and had never stopped. Sarah-Jane was a journalist first and foremost and her position as a teacher had been short lived.

Her friendship with Bill, however, had not been.

When Sarah-Jane had realised that she wanted to adopt Luke and give him the life he deserved, the first person she’d called had been Bill and they sat talking into the night, working everything out together. When a story had needed to be followed up and Luke had looked overwhelmed at the thought of being alone, Sarah-Jane hadn’t hesitated to call Bill up and ask her to come and be with him.

In Luke’s eyes, she could do no wrong. Bill was cool, funky and incredibly funny. She taught Luke a lot of things, but it never felt like she was talking down to him. She never once made him feel stupid for not knowing what Snapchat was or not understanding how to compose a text.

When Luke looked at Clyde once, and found he suddenly couldn’t look away, he did what his mum always did and turned to Bill.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” He confessed.

“You mean apart from your fashion sense?” She laughed. Bill was always laughing.

Luke frowned, confused. “You picked my clothes.”

Bill winked and took a sip of her tea. “Anyway, tell me what’s up? Has someone been bullying you?”

“How would anyone bully me? I don’t leave the house.”

“Is it Clyde?” Bill seemingly ignored him even as she acknowledged what he’d said.

Luke blushed. “No.”

“But it’s something to do with Clyde.” Of course Bill had spotted the blush. Luke had known her the longest after his mum. She was like a sister to him and he knew she felt the same way about him.

“I think I like him.” Luke stared into his mug as if it held all the answers in the world. “I’ve been doing a lot of research about liking people and relationships and love. I know people expect people to fall in love and marry but they seem to look down on it if there’s more than two people, or if the people have different coloured skin, or if the people are both the same gender.” The more he spoke, the faster his words got as he grew more and more distraught.

“Hey.” Bill reached out and caught Luke’s hands in hers. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, it’s alright. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I’m never going to be right.” Luke caught his breath on a sob, and it was like opening the floodgates. Soon he was crying, and Bill was holding him tight and rocking him back and forth.

“Luke, you are perfect. You are fine. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay.” Bill whispered these words and more to Luke as he cried himself dry.

“Just when I think I’ve sorted everything out, something else comes along.” Luke croaked.

Bill drew back and met Luke’s eyes. He wasn’t good at maintaining eye contact for very long but he looked back at Bill, drawn in by her intensity.

“Luke, you know I’m gay, right. I’ve told you before.”

“Yeah.” Luke nodded. “And I’ve met Penny.”

Penny was Bill’s current girlfriend. They’d been dating for nearly a year and though Luke had only met her once, Bill talked about her all the time.

“And you don’t think there’s anything wrong with me?”

“No!” Luke cried.

“Then why would you think there’s anything wrong with you?”

It was so obvious, so logical, that Luke just stopped and stared at her.

“Got you.” Bill smiled.

Luke’s matching one was wobbly and weak but it was there.

“So, you like Clyde?” Bill prompted.

Luke nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alright then.” Bill adjusted herself, tugging Luke in to lean against her. “Tell me everything about him.”

And Luke did.

* * *

It was sleepover night at Clyde’s, and Rani had dropped by Luke’s after school and they’d both headed there together with K9 tagging along as always. It was late at night now, and Mrs Langer was already in bed. They’d spent the afternoon doing home work (Luke had asked if he could help with big puppy dog eyes and neither student could say no to him) and playing board games. Then they’d invaded the kitchen to make pizza, K9 yapping at their heels as they got flour everywhere and grated way too much cheese. After dinner, Clyde had proudly shown off his Wii and they’d all had some intense games of Mario Kart. Luke was hopeless at it, Clyde was good and Rani was great. After they’d been told off for being too loud, they’d escaped to Clyde’s room to Skype Maria and munch on the various snacks they’d bought specially for the night.

“When’s the trip booked for?” Rani asked between bites of a chocolate bar. Maria and her dad were coming back to London for a visit, to catch up with Maria’s mum and finally meet Luke in person. They’d been invited to stay in Sarah-Jane’s house and Clyde had already made way too many jokes about Alan Jackson hooking up with her, much to Luke and Maria’s disgust.

“Two months.” Maria didn’t even need to check her calendar. “Ages away.”

“It’ll go by fast if you focus on other stuff.” Rani said comfortingly.

“That’s impossible. Time doesn’t work like that.” Luke frowned.

“Time is an illusion.” Clyde lounged on his bed, steadily making his way through the biscuits Luke had made and brought with him.

“That’s impossible.” Luke said again, but he was smiling.

“Wish I was there with you guys.” The Skype connection crackled and froze but Maria’s voice was as strong as ever.

“Soon.” Luke said, a promise to her.

K9 yipped his agreement and they all laughed.

Rani, Maria and Clyde continued to chat away but Luke tuned them out, settling back on the spare mattress he’d claimed for the night and letting the comforting sound of their voices wash over him without really taking any of it in. Sometimes it was nice just to know that he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes it was just nice to exist.

* * *

They were in the kitchen one night when Luke doubled over and dropped his glass. Sarah-Jane startled and nearly did the same with a mug. Glass splintered out from the impact point and both mother and son froze.

“Don’t move.” Sarah-Jane set her tea down. “I’ll get a broom.”

Luke was still hunched over, breathing hard. He didn’t react to a word his mum had said. As it so often was, he was entirely in his own world. Sarah-Jane knew at once that she shouldn’t leave him alone.

“Luke, what’s wrong? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Luke shook his head. His eyes never left the ground.

“We need to get out of the kitchen.” Sarah-Jane cast a practiced eye over the glass, carefully mapping out an exit for her and Luke to take. “Do you need me to carry you?” She was stubbornly ignoring the fact she definitely would not be able to if he said yes.

Luke shook his head again, though, and held out a limp hand in a silent plea. Sarah-Jane took it and led him away from the mess.

“Where would you like to go?” She asked. It was important in times like these to give Luke a choice. He needed to understand that he was free, free to make his own decisions. “Your room? The attic? Living room.”

Luke nodded for the first one. His room.

Luke’s room was his heaven. It was everything he wanted it to be and more. Sarah-Jane was determined that Luke should be allowed to have his own space and have the creative freedom to do with it what he liked. She wanted him to forget about his old room, the concrete basement that leeched the heat from you all year round. Given this freedom, the room was usually a mess, and while sometimes Sarah-Jane urged him to clean it up, other times she let it be. Obviously, she wasn’t going to let Luke just do anything, but the room was his room and it was important that he felt as though he had control in it.

Despite her insistence on letting Luke leave the room messy if he wanted to, Sarah-Jane was relieved to find it suitably tidy on that particular night. When the two were tucked up in Luke’s bed, Sarah-Jane tried to talk to him again.

“What’s wrong?” She kept her voice soft and calm. It wouldn’t do any good if Luke thought he was in trouble.

“I…” Luke stopped and looked at her helplessly.

“Having trouble saying it?”

He nodded.

“I can get a notebook. You could try writing it.”

“No.” Luke looked genuinely surprised to have spoken but he carried on nontheless. “I…I need to say this. Otherwise it won’t feel like the truth.”

“Okay.” Sarah-Jane settled in and waited. After all, she and Luke had all the time in the world.

“What happened to me…it wasn’t right.” Luke knotted his fingers together.

“Right.” Sarah-Jane confirmed, even if it hadn’t really been a question.

“And what they did to me has really messed me up.” There was no hesitation to Luke’s words but he spoke slowly and robotically. 

“Yes.”

“I…” Luke paused again. “ _I hate them.”_

There was so much venom in his voice that Sarah-Jane wanted to take him in her arms and tell him no, that they weren’t worth it, that they would only continue their hold over him if he let them haunt him. She didn’t want him to dwell on it, not if it meant he would never be able to move on.

But…after all he’d been through, how could Sarah-Jane just tell him to let it go?

“That’s okay, Luke.” She whispered to him instead, gathering him up in her arms. “That’s okay. They deserve it, they never should have laid a hand on you.”

Luke started to cry. “I hate them, and I hate myself too.”

“Why?” Sarah-Jane rocked him back and forth.

“Because I can’t seem to get better.”

“It’s not a race.” Sarah-Jane reminded him.

“Doesn’t matter.” Luke said. “Because I still feel like this.”

He was right.

Sarah-Jane held him the entire night.

* * *

“I’m going to the movies.” Luke stood in front of Sarah-Jane nervously one afternoon. “If that’s alright. Clyde asked me. He said he’d pay”

“He did?” Sarah-Jane looked at him over the top of her glasses. “When are you going?”

“This evening, if that’s alright.” Luke repeated.

“What are you seeing?”

“Mum,” Luke half laughed, half groaned. “Stop with the questions.”

“Just making sure you’re not sneaking into a horror movie or something else.”

Luke shuddered. “No thanks. I have enough nightmares as is.” His tone was light, but his eyes were sad. “I think we’re seeing a Disney movie.”

“That’s acceptable.” Sarah-Jane decided. Then, “Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure.” Luke said with fierce determination.

“Is Rani going?” Sarah-Jane asked.

Here, Luke flushed. “No, it’s just us.”

_Oh,_ Sarah-Jane thought to herself. _So it’s like that_

“Well, you two have fun. Do you want some money for snacks? If Clyde’s buying the tickets, the polite thing to do is buy the food.”

“That’d be great, thanks mum.” Luke beams. “I’m going to go change.”

As far as Sarah-Jane could tell, there was nothing wrong with what Luke was wearing, but if he wanted to put on something nicer, than who was she to judge?

She listened to his feet thud up the stairs, absently scanning the next passage in the book she was reading, some thousand-page monstrosity that Rani’s mum had recommended and she hadn’t had the heart to say no to. It was funny, how Luke had made Sarah-Jane a much more social person herself. People who met Sarah-Jane called her Luke’s saviour, but she rather thought it was a two-way street.

She’d never thought this day would come, Luke going on a date. When she’d first taken Luke in, it hadn’t crossed her mind at all. Later, when he’d settled in and months passed, stretching into years, she wondered if he’d ever have a crush on someone the same way she wondered if he’d ever go to the shops on his own. It was something she thought he might do one day but there was no pressure or expectation from her.

And now, here he was, willingly going out to a crowded place to spend time with a boy he liked.

Sarah-Jane fancied herself quite a stern person, with no fondness for over the top dramatics, but the tears pricked at her eyes in a way that felt good and right.

Luke going out because he could.

It was a novelty that would never wear off for her or Luke.

(Later that night, Clyde walked Luke home and he kissed him on the doorstep and Luke spent the rest of the evening in a daze, eyes wide with delight, cheeks red with happiness, and Sarah-Jane smiled)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leaves kudos and comments if you like, they're greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> So??? I went for a different style than what I usually write so I hope it was okay.
> 
> Please, please leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed this work so we can all know how much the Sarah-Jane Adventures still means to us.
> 
> Thanks as always for the continued support, I wouldn't write these stories without it


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